


Best Gift of All

by cadkitten



Category: BREAKERZ
Genre: Anal Sex, Christmas, Fluff, Gift Giving, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-02-28 12:53:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2733269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cadkitten/pseuds/cadkitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A mysterious gift arrives at Akihide's home and he's at a complete loss as to who it could be from. The answer isn't what he expected and provides him with something far more than a simple gift.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Best Gift of All

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cherrylng](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherrylng/gifts).



> Notes: Happy Birthday, Cherry. http://38.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mb4w18u6JW1rqh8wco1_500.gif  
> Beta Readers: sakura_ame  
> Song[s]: " Powder Snow" by Pierrot

He turned the white package over and over in his hands, a small frown on his face. The faintest difference in the color of the white wrapping showed snowflakes, vaguely opalescent and a slightly different texture beneath his fingers. A simple grey ribbon was wrapped diagonally around adjacent ends, fastened with a small piece of tape on the backside. There were no markings on it, no indication as to who it was from or who it was supposed to be given to other than the fact that it had been propped neatly against the base of his door, awaiting his return home from the blistering cold trip from the train station. 

Taking off the other glove, Akihide tucked it beneath his arm, safely in the grasp of his armpit as he turned the package again. It seemed innocuous, likely nothing he shouldn't bring inside. A small shake of it yielded no information, nothing rattling around inside and a sniff of it gained him nothing but the smell of wrapping paper, a vaguely dry and perhaps impossible smell to define. 

He tugged his keys free with his other hand and unlocked his door, stepping inside and shutting it firmly behind him. Turning off his alarm, he made quick work of getting out of his wet boots and slightly saturated coat, retrieving the package and retreating to the kitchen. After a brief foray into warming water and making a hot cup of cider from an instant packet he'd acquired at some novelty store, he settled in the old wooden chair at his tiny dining room table and picked the package back up. 

Nearly half of his cider was gone before he finally relented, setting the cup aside and tucking one nail under the piece of tape holding the ribbon down, easing it up and watching as the strand sprang away from the package, rolling across the table to settle beside his salt shaker. Just as carefully, he loosened the tape holding the edges of the painstakingly placed wrapping paper and unfolded it from the box within. That, too, yielded no signs of what it was, just a simple white box, the texture slightly raised, bumpy beneath his fingers as he smoothed them over it. Another sniff and no change in scent, another rattle and no signs of movement within.

He popped off the lid and stared down at a thin layer of white cotton, the urge to laugh bubbling up within him. There was no such thing as instant gratification with this package, every corner providing him a brand new nose-dive to his thrill. With a snort at the thought, he picked up the fluffy white sheet and placed it aside, surprise filtering through him as he took in the painstakingly crafted watch within. His fingers lifted the hefty weight of it from the box, feeling the cool slide of metal over his skin as he draped it across his wrist, examining how perfectly it seemed to match his style and taste. There was no mistake here, no accidental gift giving or random gestures from neighbors down the hall. This was intentional to a degree that spoke of deeper meanings; perhaps friendship, perhaps more. 

He slid the watch off and reached in to remove the other sheet of cotton, peering under it for information on who had given him such a thing. When nothing turned up, he furrowed his brow, looking back down at the watch and then slowly picking it up. His fingers turned it, finding the back engraved with a very simple message. One word: _Eternal_.

He breathed out a sigh that was mixed with relief and exasperation. It had to be Daigo, he was the only choice given all the signs. He slid the watch back onto his wrist and fastened the clasp on the bottom, studying the face of it and then reaching into his pocket, pulling out his phone and tapping the screen to turn it on. Pulling up his last message to the other man, he tapped out a new one, sending it off with a shake of his head.

_'I thought I told you not to get me a gift this year. Though... I admit, it's beautiful and I love it.'_

He picked up his cider, draining the rest from the cup and then settling back in his chair, the creak of the wood equally as comforting as it was terrifying. Perhaps one day the wood would snap and he'd go careening to the floor. But for now, it was just the sound he was used to, the piece that would be missing if he were to invest in another chair.

The chime of a text arriving pulled him from his thoughts and he reached for his phone, peering at the message.

_'I never agreed not to.'_

Minimalist as Daigo always was, it still made Akihide smile just the smallest amount. He slid his finger over the contact photo and then selected the phone icon, letting it dial out and then hitting speaker phone before settling the device back on the table. The moment the other answered, he released a quiet laugh. "You win this round, then. But I didn't g-"

"That isn't why I gave it to you." Daigo's voice was quiet, a whisper of breath across the microphone, barely a vibration of the speaker on Akihide's end. "I've never given you anything expecting something in return, you should know that by now."

And somehow those words stung deeper than anything else he could have said. Akihide knew he didn't mean them as his mind took them, but life was life. He pursed his lips for a moment and then tilted his head back. Maybe he had nothing to give him in the physical sense of the word... but surely he could sacrifice words and emotions to this cause.

Opening up had never been a strong suit for him, but he knew he would manage something passable at least. He wet his lips and then offered the one thing he'd been hiding away for months now. "Maybe not... but sometimes I think it'd be nice if you got a little return on your investment. Honestly, you have managed more than you think by just being who you are. You've earned my respect and my appreciation. Your actions have turned me from bitter and self-depreciating to a man that can enjoy his own company and thoughts. And more than that, you've found your way deeper into my world, more than just a bandmate or co-worker." He paused and then seized the moment, bit the proverbial bullet. "More than a friend." There it was, sitting out in the open, raw and throbbing in the silence, just waiting to be crumpled up and tossed back or taken in and treasured.

There were a few moments of nothing and then a quiet, "Open your door," before the line disconnected.

It was with great surprise that Akihide picked himself up off of the wooden chair and moved back to the entryway, going through the motions of opening the door and stepping back to let Daigo inside.

No sooner had his coat hit the floor than Daigo had hold of Akihide, pulling him tightly into his embrace, one hand roughly in his hair, the other around his waist, lips harsh against his cheek for a few moments before the touch relented, retreated. They stood staring at one another for the span of several very awkward seconds before Daigo stepped past him, offering a hand. 

It struck Akihide as odd, being led through his own apartment, taken to his own bedroom by another person who had never even been in that room before. But it was also exhilarating, something about the boldness of the action pleasant. He found his heart rate speeding up, his blood rushing diligently to all the places it knew instinctively it needed to go in moments like these. As they crossed the threshold of the bedroom, he felt the surge of lust he'd been holding back slam through him, leaving an electric tingle in its wake.

Even as he was led to the bed and guided back upon it, he found it hard to focus on anything other than how desperately he'd been anticipating this moment, how many times he'd woken, drenched in sweat and aching with need because of it. And here it was, presented to him all for the truth of his own utterances. So easy, in retrospect, though it had looked like the hardest thing in the world before he'd parted his lips to breathe life to the meaning of his words.

It was the easiest thing he'd ever done to reach up and pull Daigo down to him, to arch his own body against another. He could feel the excitement from Daigo, the way his body surged back against his, the desperate cant and recoil of his hips, hot breath upon his neck. Supple, pliant lips slid along his neck and across his collarbone, fingers unfastening the top two buttons on his shirt and then stopping, moving lower. Fingers cupped the bulge of his length and he groaned, snapping forward against the touch with a quiet cry.

That moment was the undoing of everything, the shot into the darkness and the beginning of the war that was to be waged between the sheets. His mind could barely register the removal of his pants or his own fingers doing their best at an attempt to disrobe his partner. The next coherent thing that happened was the slip of two lubricated fingers into his passage and the near-blinding pleasure that followed. It took everything in him to not buck against the intrusion, to not simply take what he needed and wanted in those moments, but instead savor what he'd been given.

Time became fluid in much the same way that thoughts became dust and words turned to pointless syllables, uttered amongst the necessary breaths of air. And before he knew it, Daigo was pressed between his thighs, cock sliding slowly into his body. He clung to his shirt, fingers white-knuckled with their grip as he forgot how to breathe. The world ground to a stop, only the prickle of sensation remaining with him for precious seconds and then everything snapped back into place, the feeling of warmed steel within him, his body clenching and then spasming before it relaxed, giving in to whatever this was that was happening. Slowly, his hips eased back down, his grip loosening... and Daigo began to move.

Every thrust loosed a cry into the world as he alternated between clinging to the other's shirt and grasping at the covers in a way that could only be labeled as desperation. For what, he wasn't entirely certain. It was too much and not enough all at once. For all his experience with women over the years, nothing had prepared him for what it felt like with someone of the same gender, to be filled and taken. The fleeting thought of how this had to be how every woman on the planet who'd ever been taken had felt slid through him and was just as quickly gone, replaced by any number of other thoughts. Fragments of thoughts floated through his mind, coming and going, profound and profoundly stupid within nanoseconds of one another. 

And then Daigo's fingers found his length, wrapping around his aching flesh and starting a steady rhythm. His body couldn't decide where to go, what to do, and all he could do was make half-choked noises, cries that began and stopped in the same space of time. He reacted on impulse, shifting and drawing his legs up to deepen the contact, to bring Daigo further into him. 

Before long they'd shifted positions, Daigo pressing Akihide's legs back, opening him more as he thrust quickly into him, his pace speaking of pent up desires and late night thoughts of just such a thing happening. Akihide's muscles began to strain, his thighs trembling with the effort of what they were doing and how his hips still wouldn't entirely stay still despite the position. One hand grabbed hold of the pillow behind his head, the other grabbing Daigo's shirt again, clinging for dear life.

The feeling of the other's pants against his rear, the scratch of fabric after repeated rubbing... the scent of sex on the air simultaneously strange and heady. The world slid toward the pleasant buzzing sensation he was so used to, the place just before orgasm where everything was both painful and blissful, agony and yet wonderful. With a shaky release of breath, he found that weightless feeling for an instant as the coil snapped within him. He clenched tight and then began to spasm as he lost it, spilling onto his own abdomen with moan after moan, his hands scrabbling over both the bed and his lover, exploring blindly, without intent or purpose other than to move while the Earth moved with him.

Daigo never lost pace over him, working his hips steadily through the whole thing until Akihide slumped, exhausted against the bed. Only then did he allow himself more, let his body take the lead and force him into overdrive, his hips slamming hard into the other as he felt his muscles becoming rigid with the need of his actions. A few short grunting cries and then he went perfectly still, cock pulsing as he released.

It took time before awareness settled back over the pair of them, Daigo shifting to lay beside Akihide, stretching out on the bed as he ran his fingers over the other's abdomen, lightly trailing through the evidence of what they'd just done, a small smile on his lips. "I think it's you who won this round, you know... the best gift of all was the truth."

**The End**


End file.
